Stone Of Matter

by B L Barkey

  What does he want now?

  Hope the girls are still watching.

  Will it distract Mikael?

  I could use this to make the first strike.

  Or…

  Ammon relaxed his posture slightly, looking towards the newcomers with his head and eyes, but not with his mind. He kept his mind focused on his brother, holding him in his peripherals.

  A second later, Mikael took a silent step backward, then stepped behind Ammon and swung his arm. Ammon ducked beneath the powerful swing and watched the look of genuine surprise paint his brother’s face. Imbalanced and confused, Mikael was wide open. Ammon kicked Mikael in the lower thigh, destroying his balance and knocking him into the sand, just as the starfish stretched to touch the finish line.

  “Ahh no! I wanted that one! You feigned!” Mikael yelled with closed eyes, arching his back in the sand as his hands gripped fistfuls of his own hair.

  “That’s.. what you get for.. trying to swipe me blind,” Ammon gasped, winking. He hopped down from his throne, then looked towards the approaching crew.

  “Ammon, I said good job…” Sadie pouted, shoving him on the hip with her foot. He moved more than he would have expected, proving Sadie was stronger than she thought.

  “Thank ya,” Ammon said with a half-bow, while sweeping more black sand into the white behind him. She grabbed his hair, hurting him in a curiously playful way.

  “…rather impressive game if you watch people who know how to play,” Chalice said. “It takes little skill to win, and many different skills at once to make it a beautiful game. Watching these fools is like watching a gecko climbing a blade of grass. Agonizingly slow and fruitless.” Chalice was as loud as ever. Many of the birds and thrums that had been playing songs nearby were now gone, and Ammon didn’t think this a coincidence.

  “And you can do better?” Mikael asked Chalice, still trying to keep it playful.

  “I won’t even waste my breath answering that,” Chalice said, turning towards a new face in the group. “But this kid could take any two of you at once.”

  The kid was named Daren. He was usually nice enough, though he obviously needed to make new friends. Krystal often sparred with him as well, and had told them more than one story of the boy losing his temper and wailing on anything within his reach. She had been wearing protective gear during one of the outbursts, but she had still received bruises from it.

  It seemed the Monjin siblings had left. Ivani had sat behind them, already setting up his Imion’s glass jars. Maison was nowhere to be seen.

  “Did the others get sick of hearing you ramble?” Ammon asked.

  “We didn’t come here to talk,” Chalice said, surprising them all with the weight in his voice. “We came here to show you how this game is really played.”

  “Oh good, we were just saying how we wished you were here, to teach us. Miracles do happen,” Liz scoffed, folding her arms. Sadie laughed some, but otherwise remained quiet and still. This was for the best, as Ammon knew Chalice had taken a liking to her.

  “You and me then?” Ammon said, poking Chalice in the chest.

  “Hmm. As much as I’d love to embarrass you, I still haven’t quite decided if I should reveal my secrets. Seeing that you already mimic me and all. How’s about Daren goes first? Against, say, Mikael?”

  They all rolled their eyes and groaned.

  “Sure,” Daren responded, cool as the shade of the trees.

  This might actually be an interesting match, Ammon thought.

  “Yeah, I’m in,” Mikael answered. Ammon knew Mikael had just assessed his opponent, seeing either a weakness or challenge to exploit.

  “Well, what’re we waiting for? Let’s make it happen!” yelled Chalice, raising his arms.

  “For me,” Ivani chimed in. “You’re waiting for me. Gimme another minute.” His voice was both quiet and calm as he deftly prepared his instrument.

  “You heard the man,” Ammon said aloud, speaking mostly to Chalice, who was now walking away and muttering curses under his breath.

  Ammon walked over to the Imion, stretching his arms across his chest. He watched Ivani, taking in the intricate shapes and designs of each glass piece.

  “What a cool instrument. And you created it yourself?”

  “Mmm,” Ivani said, still focusing on the Imion.

  Silence crept between them, leaving only the tinkling of the glass instrument.

  “You’re a good guy, Ivani.”

  There was true silence then. Ivani was still, having tilted his head just slightly towards Ammon, who had his eyebrows furrowed.

  “Thanks,” Ivani laughed, before looking around for the eyes of others. Ammon was unphased.

  “Really though, why do you hang out with Chalice? How can you spend so much time around him?”

  Ivani placed the container of water on his right hip, placed another empty one at the end of the Imion, inhaled deeply, then looked directly at Ammon.

  “Do you know how glass is made?” Ivani asked. His voice had the tone of a story, with an invitation to listen in patience. If Ammon was not already donning a serious expression, he would have looked surprised.

  “Heat and sand, right?” Ammon answered with a question, though he was sure.

  “Yes. Likewise, there is a phenomenon in our physical world when lightning strikes sand. The flash heat turns sand into glass with such extraordinary quantities of energy, the power can only be guessed at. At the same time, it opens a crater around the new crystalline structure, exploding outwards into thick trunks and branches.”

  Ivani looked down at his own creation, then continued.

  “Nature is full of beauty. Yet it also has phases of destruction and inelegance. Chalice is like the sand, I think. For now, he is rough, grainy. Even shaky on his foundation. But when the heat comes upon him, I think he will take form. He is made of many different parts, some more easily seen than others.”

  There was no hiding it this time. Ammon was stunned. He had no idea that Ivani entertained such deep thoughts.

  “I still can’t see why you spend time with him. I can hardly tolerate sand in my shoe, let alone sand in a friendship. But I respect your insight. Only, I still have one question,” Ammon said, raising his finger. “Doesn’t glass break easily?”

  “Hmmm,” Ivani hummed, seeming to fully hear Ammon this time. “Yes, I suppose so. The analogy isn’t perfect.”

  Ivani looked him in the eye. Both wore serious expressions. Then, at the exact same moment, a smile spread across their faces. They both laughed deep in their chests. It was the kind of laughter that rolls out of you whether you want it to or not. Ivani’s smile was more subtle, as if used infrequently. Yet he held a new contentment in his posture.

  “Well then. As they say. What are we waiting for?” Ivani finished. He picked up the container of water, then let several drops fall from the intricate flow of his hands.

  The music was soft, introductory. It became a shimmering outline of what was already there before them, enhancing the moment. Ammon drew closer to the girls, bumping Sadie with his hip. She hooked Ammon’s left arm in both of hers, squeezing slightly tighter than usual. She was nervous.

  Mikael and Daren stepped up to the starfish on opposite sides and awaited the call. They gave Chalice the honor, his loud voice finally appropriate.

  “Let us begin. Ready...,” Chalice said as both fighters crawled atop the blue creature.

  “Begin!” Chalice roared with a vertical swipe of his hand.

  The strategy was different in this round. It no longer felt like a game, but a rite of passage. A test of strength. It was raw emotion.

  Both Mikael and Daren sprinted to the center. They clasped arms and shoulders in a sudden halt that seemed to shake the air around them, echoing a loud smack. For a second, Ammon wondered if they had smashed their skulls together. He wanted to cheer on his brother, but it seemed wrong. No one spoke. They just watched, paying tribute and respect with their held tongues.

&nbs
p; The two young men whipped each other back and forth, showing much force and muscle with each movement. The stamina for the size of them both was impressive as they clashed over and over again. For a moment, Ammon worried about the starfish. He looked at its rocky skin which still appeared smooth and whole.

  After about ten minutes, both boys were heaving when Mikael finally worked the leverage well enough to lift Daren into the air and toss him into the sand. Mikael raised his hands in exhausted valor, then stumbled from the starfish into a handshake with Daren. They clasped hands, nodding to each other with respect. Then Mikael weaved back over to his friends and collapsed on Liz.

  “Awesome match Mik… agghh you’re soaked!” Liz squealed as Sadie laughed at them both.

  Ammon saw Chalice toss Daren some water, though it was done with disgust. Chalice then continued to walk over, catching and holding Ammon’s eye. Ammon knew what was coming, and welcomed it.

  “You and me,” Chalice said, stepping before him. They were roughly the same height, though Chalice was a bit thicker in the shoulders. Ammon was also leaner in muscle. He would use this to his advantage.

  “Sure,” Ammon shrugged. “I’m looking forward to stealing all your secrets. Not to mention your dignity.”

  “Mock now, while you can,” Chalice growled, his voice low and controlled. It was very much unlike him. Ammon grew curious. He had never actually seen Chalice fight with his fists. He had only ever witnessed his simple jests and cowardly insults.

  Both stripped off their shirts, then stood on opposite sides of the blue starfish. Ammon felt his heart beating against his ribcage. Sadie is watching, he thought. Everyone is watching. But Sadie. I cannot lose to Chalice in front of her. Though a clear head would have told him this was nonsense, that her affection did not come from the outcome of a fist fight, his current state of mind made this his only train of thought. Blood was pumping furiously through his heart and muscles. Let’s do this.

  IV

  Ammon felt a coolness shoot through his veins. His heart felt like a brilliant light. And he smiled. He couldn’t hold it back. Chalice was still looking at him, frowning deeply.

  “Ready?” came Liz’s voice. “Begin!”

  Ammon leapt to the right, landing on the next leg of the starfish. Chalice was already standing in the middle, taking a combatives stance fit for throwing punches. It was no longer a game. It was a proving ground. To prove they could protect their own.

  Ammon took in a deep breath, settling his resolve. He was now in this fight. He was here. And he was going to win. Chalice shifted as if to lunge forward. Ammon jumped another leg over, then sprinted up the center. Chalice was not thrown with the maneuver, and instead faced Ammon head-on, arms up. Ammon threw a punch with his left fist, connecting with Chalice’s forearm. Despite the impact, it felt good.

  Chalice retaliated with a punch from his own left, aiming for the side of Ammon’s head. Ammon blocked with his other forearm, then ducked into Chalice’s abdomen. He threw several punches in quick succession to Chalice’s kidneys before two hands crashed down onto his own spine.

  Ammon faltered. Chalice knocked him aside. He slid to the edge of the starfish, one foot slipping and coming to a halt just inches above the sand. Chalice was blinking rapidly, sucking in air to clear his head.

  Ammon swung his legs into a low crouch, both hands near the blue surface. Chalice pressed forward. Ammon swiped a punch away, using the momentum to propel himself to the left and behind Chalice.

  He keeps waiting, then rushes in with a weaker punch, Ammon thought. I need him to throw a strong punch with his other arm. Only then can I connect with his head.

  The half-second of thought was a mistake. Chalice had already pivoted and approached for another blow. He caught Ammon’s defense with another left hook of the arm, then came full force with his right hand. His punch landed on Ammon’s jaw.

  Ammon tilted his head to flow with the punch, diminishing the force of the blow. That could have been a dislocated jaw. Just the thought of being knocked out in front of Sadie, particularly by Chalice, and losing the rest of the afternoon with the beautiful woman… Just the thought of it was infuriating. He had been present in the moment before, but now…

  Now he was going to end it.

  Ammon arose just as Chalice approached.

  I’m going to end this. I can feel it. The present. Right now, there is pain. I hurt. But in living in it… not running from it… there is freedom. I can feel it.

  Ammon felt different. It was a strange feeling, though perhaps not entirely new. He couldn’t remember. All that mattered, was now.

  Ammon grinned. Chalice’s eyes grew uncertain, just as he threw another power punch at Ammon’s head.

  Ammon let the blow connect. Immediately upon contact, he whipped his head with the punch, this time dissipating almost all the energy down through his torso and into his core, spinning full circle to his right. Chalice stood, unstable. Ammon held both hands up in defense. He let his arms take motion as they followed strands of muscle memory, executing the sequence he practiced most often.

  He swiped his left fist, catching Chalice’s jaw. With the same momentum, Ammon turned on his right foot and drove his right fist into Chalice’s face. As they both began to tilt, Ammon used the forward-falling motion to step and bring his still-swinging left fist down, around, and up. His left fist connected just under Chalice’s chin.

  Ammon heard him whimper just as his teeth clashed together like sparking rocks. His eyes rolled, then closed as his body collapsed onto the starfish, then tumbled into the sand.

  Almost instantly, Ammon felt pangs of regret. I shouldn’t have hit him so hard. That move was meant for serious situations. Seeing the boy crumple like a dried leaf, the threat and adrenaline disappeared.

  Ammon felt his mind smoothly step back. His awareness lessened, as did the detail in his surroundings. He was still present, though many calibers below where he’d just been.

  What was that? He wondered silently, before turning his attention back to Chalice.

  He hopped down next to the unconscious body, helping him sit up. Breath came back to Chalice with a sharp inhale. He looked thoroughly confused, as if the last thing he remembered was breakfast.

  “What…,” he began, before looking towards his helper. He blinked. Then, realization drained his face of color. His look of growing shock was worth diamonds to Ammon. He first appeared relieved, almost trusting. The look then drifted into shame, and finally, utter sadness, which slipped into madness. Then, as if consciously deciding to hate Ammon, he pulled away. Daren was there to help him as Ammon stood and walked back to his own group.

  Within two steps, Sadie was already jumping onto him. He was entirely surprised and both fell to the sand.

  “So you fight both of them like that, but I take you down in one hit? Victory!” she shouted, throwing her own fist into the air. Ammon tickled her as she arched backwards, laughing into his neck.

  After drinking and rinsing with water, Ammon decided to check on Chalice. He soon regretted approaching him at all. Chalice was back to his usual self.

  “I never fight,” Chalice spat with poorly-subdued rage. “You spar with your man-woman friend Krystal all the time. It was an unfair fight.”

  “In all honesty, you were much better than I expected. You almost had me there at the start,” said Ammon with so much sincerity, he actually surprised and pained himself.

  Chalice sniffed. “Like I said, it proves nothing. Think you’re really tough? Think it’s real brave, fighting a rookie?”

  Ammon didn’t respond. He was tangibly stunned by the ignorance and hypocrisy of Chalice’s words.

  “Didn’t you say you would show us your secrets? How to really play the game? Didn’t you…”

  “Climb it,” Chalice interrupted.

  Ammon paused. “Climb what?” he asked. Yet he knew what the boy meant.

  “Emerald Cliff, on the side of the Whirlpool. Climb it. Prove your bravery.”
>
  “Not a chance,” Mikael said, stepping into the conversation. “We have nothing to prove to you.”

  “Too late. The challenge has been made. Also, what I’ve proposed is a reasonable feat. To back down now would be the mark of cowardice.”

  Chalice was speaking in half-truths. It was typically their belief as Cephasonians that a feasible challenge, once extended, was either fulfilled or respectfully declined with a bow. It was a clever move on Chalice’s part, seeking to have Ammon bow to him before Chalice himself had even bowed in defeat of combat. It was cheap. It was just like Chalice.

  “A reasonable feat?” Liz’s voice rang out. “I’ll assume your deaf and blind, considering they have told us, since birth mind you, to avoid even looking at the Emerald Whirlpool. There are even signs you passed today giving the same warning.”